Colby Agency: Guardian Of The Night Part 5

He released her as abruptly as he'd taken hold of her. "Don't ever come up here again." There was nothing soft about his voice this time. Anger glittered in his eyes now. His ploy hadn't worked, and he was mad as h.e.l.l about it.

Victory drew her lips into a smile. "Noted," she acknowledged the order and walked away without a backward glance.

Once on the landing outside his door she closed her eyes and drew in a deep, bolstering breath.

That was too close for comfort. She inventoried her body's infernal reaction to the man and cursed herself. She had to find a way to ignore him on that level.

She almost laughed out loud at the foolishness of that proposal as she slowly descended the stairs. Ignoring her responses to him would be about as easy as keeping the sun from rising.

Chapter Five.

Noah sat alone at his desk downstairs and methodically reviewed all but one piece of the day's mail. Tension vibrated inside him. He shoved his chair back from the desk and pushed to his feet. d.a.m.n his lack of control.

Lowell and Blue were having dinner. He had refused to dine with them. And still he could not block her from his thoughts. Like the woman, the idea of her simply refused to vacate his mind. He cursed his uncharacteristic weakness.

He moved across the room...stood at the wide set of windows and closed his eyes, summoning the ocean view beyond the heavily shrouded sashes of gla.s.s. The dense woods, veiled in darkness now. The full moon hanging low overhead, spilling a dim glow over all that lay beneath it. The smell of the Atlantic...the night sounds of the tide...of the leaves swaying in the gentle breeze. The weather forecaster had promised unseasonably cool temperatures tonight, there would be mist in the air, cloud-like forms floating like whispers from the past. He yearned to touch the night...to feel it around him.

But he was no longer alone in his misery.

She would follow him if he left the house.

Never had he met such a determined woman. He opened his eyes and stared at nothing at all. He'd been certain that if his indifference didn't push her away, the threat of physical intimacy would.

It had not.

She was not afraid of him on any level.

He shook his head slowly from side to side.

She had to have a weakness. Everyone had one. He had to find it...and then he would be the one in control.

The scope of his world had been narrowed so much that he felt completely out of sorts if even one aspect was beyond his dominion. She threw him off balance...threatened his ability to maintain absolute authority over all, meager as it was, that his world encompa.s.sed.

He knew a great deal about Maggie "Blue" Callahan, at least as much as was recorded by her employer. The youngest in a family composed mostly of males, she had strived to make her own mark. She'd done that and more. Noah couldn't help wondering if the former president had been enthralled with her outstanding abilities as a personal protector or with the woman herself. Though he did not doubt her capabilities, Noah's money was on the latter.

Beauty went only skin deep, and she was beautiful and more. The perfect mix of femininity and athleticism made her slender form unforgettable. Long, silky blond hair and heart-stopping blue eyes embellished a face that was an incredible blend of softness and angularity. Being smart and determined only made bad matters worse. But it was the genuine compa.s.sion, the burning desire to succeed beneath all the appealing outer trappings that distracted him the most.

He never doubted for one moment her ability to hold her own in a physical confrontation. He'd seen firsthand her agility and the sharpness of her instincts. She was good. At twenty-eight, he wondered if she had a serious relations.h.i.+p in D.C. or back home in California. He didn't want to wonder, but he couldn't help himself.

She intrigued him as no one else ever had.

That glitch was dangerous to both of them.

General Bonner wanted him dead...wanted vengeance. He would stop at nothing to have it, Noah was certain. That put Blue directly in the line of fire. But then, she was trained for that precise position. Be that as it may, he had a bad feeling that nothing had prepared her for this unexpected attraction. He was no fool. She felt it the same as he did.

Basic chemistry, he understood that. But there were times when even the most elemental chemistry could be volatile. This was one of the times.

His loins tightened at the mere thought of touching her.

"You ruined Lowell's evening, you know."

The sound of her voice dragged his reluctant attention around to the other side of the room. She stood in the doorway looking annoyed and impatient. He suddenly wondered how a simple pair of off-the-rack blue denim jeans could mold so perfectly to the human form. How a rather nondescript navy blouse that b.u.t.toned down the front, could look so utterly feminine and tailor-made to fit her torso? There was no reasonable explanation for the direction of his thoughts other than the fact that he had not touched a woman in five long years. And this one was here-right in front of him-vibrant and attractive, determined to barge into his life at his every turn.

She moved toward him, her head inclined, studying him as if she could read his thoughts. "Dinner was fabulous. You do have to eat."

His body tensed as she surveyed him from head to toe. He wore what he always did, black jeans and a black T-s.h.i.+rt. His closet contained nothing else. But she looked at him as if seeing him for the first time...as if taking his measure. The breadth of his shoulders. His fingers curled into fists as her gaze moved over his torso, paused strategically, then moved down the length of his legs.

She continued moving toward him until she was only a few feet away. Her gaze returned to his, approval glimmered there. "You look healthy enough, but I'd like you to stay that way...at least while you're under my watch."

It was at that exact moment that Noah knew beyond a shadow of a doubt just how much of a threat she represented to his hard-won peace with himself.

Five endless years it had taken him to find this elusive plateau...this place where he could survive above the bitterness and anger and without looking back and wondering what might have been had he made different choices. He'd even found an outlet for his need to accomplish something. Now, in barely twenty-four hours, she had shaken the foundation of all he was. All it had taken was a look, a touch...the sound of her voice.

"I'm not a child, Maggie Callahan. I know when to eat."

He didn't miss the slight tightening of her jaw. She didn't like it that he referred to her that way. She wanted him to accept her presence and call her Blue as her friends did, but he would not. He would use whatever means available to maintain the distance between them until he discovered a weakness of hers that would put him back in control.

"If you're planning a stroll, I'd appreciate it if you let me know. I need to be aware of your location at all times." She folded her arms over her chest and dared him to argue with her order.

He considered the weapon strapped to her shoulder. "Your protection is not required during the night hours." He leveled his most intimidating gaze on her. "No one can touch me in the dark."

Memories of the moments they'd spent together near the old chapel last night tumbled through her head. He didn't have to be a mind reader to know, the slight widening of her eyes, the catch in her breath gave her thoughts away.

She lifted her chin a notch and glared at him defiantly. "So, you're at home in the dark. That's great. But it changes nothing. Where you go, I go."

He nodded once, conceding the point. It would be in his best interest to keep her close by. There was only one way to determine a person's weaknesses and that was to acquaint oneself well with that person. Five years ago he would not have considered the job a hards.h.i.+p. Things were different now, and he recognized the risk involved. He didn't want to know her that well. He didn't want her here at all.

Well, want actually had nothing to do with it.

If he could not intimidate her into leaving, then he would make the situation work to his advantage. The past five years had taught him one thing if nothing else, he could learn to live with anything if he set his mind to it.

"I received another letter today," he said offhandedly.

The announcement took her by surprise. "Where is it? I'd like to see it."

She followed him to his desk where the white envelope lay untouched. He'd recognized it immediately and set it to the side. He'd first considered throwing it away. If no more letters were reported then perhaps Rothman would see the uselessness of having her here. But then he'd decided against that course of action. Though he resented the intrusion of her presence, he resented being stalked even more. Bonner clearly knew Noah's every move, but this pointless game was so unlike him.

Callahan opened the envelope and unfolded the single page inside. She looked at it for a long, a.s.sessing minute, then pa.s.sed it to him.

I'm closer than you know. She won't be able to stop me.

Just as he had suspected, she was in the direct line of fire from whatever source this threat came. "You understand that you will be a primary target now?" he asked her, his gaze searching hers. He needed to know that she understood fully the ramifications of her continued presence in this house.

"I understand. I understood it yesterday when those punks took shots at me."

He frowned. "What punks?"

She quickly gave him an update on Chester's findings in regard to the gunshots.

Anger infused Noah. This was not the general's style at all. This incident was exactly what it had appeared-two fools with too much time on their hands.

There was only one way to deal with a fool.

"I'm going out," he announced. "Now."

He didn't give her time to argue or question his agenda. He simply walked out.

She followed.

"Should I hold dinner for you?" Lowell asked as Noah pa.s.sed through the kitchen.

"I can fend for myself later," he answered without slowing. This was his home...his refuge. He would not be threatened for no reason in his own home.

He and General Bonner had a score to settle. Not that Noah thought Bonner was right in any sense of the word. But at least he had credible motivation for his actions.

Fury washed over Noah anew.

Two punks using Callahan for target practice was unacceptable.

The moment he was outside he lingered for a time to draw in a deep breath of fresh night air. As predicted, the temperature was cool...mist drifted through the darkness, the moonlight doing nothing to banish it.

The frothy water lapped at the sand, teasing, twirling, then draining away. Noah moved toward it, the sound like a beacon in the darkness. He loved the ocean. That it rolled across the sand of his own backyard made him feel very lucky indeed. This was his one pleasure...his one escape.

As long as he had this he could survive the long nights spent alone.

"It's so beautiful here."

He turned sharply toward her, having almost forgotten she was there. The spa.r.s.e moonbeams, captured the gold in her honey-colored hair, making it gleam like raw silk. Her full attention was riveted to the waves cras.h.i.+ng against the sand, the sound as well as the sight mesmerizing.

She looked up at him then. "This is why you chose this place, isn't it?"

For a time he stood there, his gaze connected with hers in a long, evocative stare, without responding to her question. Then he said, "Yes."

Her gaze s.h.i.+fted back to the restless water. "I can see why."

He wanted to touch her. Wanted to feel her lips beneath his. But that would be a mistake.

Instead, he strode toward the forest and the refuge it offered. He could lose himself in there. Watch for intruders while clearing his mind of notions that could not be seen to fruition.

She stayed right behind him for a time and then he did what he did best now, he disappeared into the darkness.

Blue searched for at least half an hour. Had she not gotten such a good lay of the land today, she would be unequivocally lost right now.

Noah Drake, however, was lost to her. He disappeared into the night like a shadow...like a part of it. She heard not one sound, saw not the first hint of movement. He made her madder than h.e.l.l.

How was she supposed to keep him safe if he vanished on her? Not only did it prevent her from doing her job, his little disappearing acts made her look totally inept. Then again, she imagined that was part of the reason he did it. He wanted her to feel inadequate...to prove he didn't need her.

Well, he was making his point.

A little too well.

She considered that the yahoos with the target-practice fetish could be out here in the dark somewhere and that made her uneasy. But then again, if she couldn't find Drake, chances were those guys couldn't either.

The idea that he might be lurking about watching her made her want to kick his...

Movement to her right.

Blue turned slowly, careful not to make a sound and squinted into the darkness. A shaft of moonlight penetrated the canopy of trees about five yards away. She unholstered her weapon and took a bead in the direction of the next sound. A figure stepped into the light.

"Strange things happening round here," a female voice said, the sound coa.r.s.e with age.

An old woman, short and stocky, stood in that minuscule cone of light, her mahogany skin weathered, making her look even older than Blue first estimated. She wore her hair back in some kind of bandanna. She dressed plainly except for the layers of odd-looking jewelry, and was clearly unarmed, though she appeared completely unafraid in spite of the bead Blue had on her. But the most prominent feature about her was the scar that slashed from the edge of her right eye to the corner of her mouth. The whiteness of it stood out in stark relief against her dark skin.

Lowering her weapon only slightly, Blue moved closer. "Who are you?" Goose b.u.mps skittered across her skin. She tried to shake off a ridiculous feeling. She wasn't afraid of any old woman...but some instinct warned her to beware.

"Makes no nevermind who I am," the woman returned pointedly. "But you, now there's a horse of a different color. You're in way over your head. There's something bad coming. If you're not mighty careful the darkness will get you. You're right to be afraid."

Against her own better judgment, Blue lowered her weapon the rest of the way. Something about the woman rattled Blue, made her uneasy. "Who are you?" she repeated. And how the h.e.l.l did she know Blue was afraid of the dark?

"You mind my words, Maggie Callahan," the old woman said. "Things are not always what they seem."

"How do you know my name?" Blue's heart pounded against her sternum. "Tell me who-"

It was too late. She was gone.

The old woman simply melted into the darkness the same way Drake seemed to do.

Blue scrubbed a hand over her face and reached for calm. She was shaking. She cursed herself under her breath. It was a small island. Probably all the residents knew about her by now. Chester's doing, she would just bet. She was overreacting, that's all. The old woman was only trying to spook her.

Blue's eyes narrowed. The idea that Drake may have put the old woman up to this sent anger whipping along every raw nerve ending. When she found him again, she was going to let him have it, with both barrels, so to speak.

She shoved her weapon back into its holster and decided to make her way to the old chapel. She had a sneaking suspicion that it might be one of Drake's favorite hangouts. Things are not always what they seem kept echoing in her ears. Was the old woman referring to Drake or simply babbling nonsense?

Blue didn't believe in superst.i.tions or any of the related mumbo-jumbo. The possibility that Drake had put the old woman up to saying those things was by far the most logical explanation. Still, it had unsettled her. And what had she meant by there's something bad coming? Was she referring to the general, who wanted his revenge on Drake? If she lent any credence to the woman's words at all, it was the part about being in over her head. Blue had definitely stepped in a little deep by allowing this crazy attraction to her princ.i.p.al to get a foothold in the first place. Neither she nor Drake appeared to have any control over it.

Blue'd had only one serious relations.h.i.+p in her life and that had just kind of fizzled out. Men didn't deal well with aggressive women, especially those working for the country's president. Her job had intimidated most of her male friends, other than those with whom she worked, and they treated her like one of the guys. She'd wanted it that way. The last thing Blue wanted under any circ.u.mstances was to be treated as anything other than what she was, a highly trained Specialist in the art of protection and a number of other skills that were cla.s.sified.

But sometimes, to her self-disgust, the woman in her yearned to be treated like a woman...a real woman. The sweet, fragile kind. Then again, no man in his right mind was going to treat a female who could most likely kick his b.u.t.t like a hothouse flower. Certainly no man wanted a woman like her for his wife or the mother of his children.

Regret p.r.i.c.ked Blue, but she immediately banished it. This was the life she'd chosen and she had no real regrets...at least she hadn't until now. If a man couldn't love her for who and what she was, then too bad. She was too busy for a love life anyway.

Who needed flowers and candy or midnight phone calls or long, quiet walks on the beach?